


For Those About To Chuck (We Forgive You)

by GutsAllegoryRam



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Emetophobia, M/M, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1664462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutsAllegoryRam/pseuds/GutsAllegoryRam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set before the film, Newt drags Hermann along to a military exercise as science boffin seat-fillers. Hermann has trouble keeping his lunch down on the flight over.</p><p>Trigger warning for Emetophobia. I made every effort not to explicitly depict it but that is the punch line of sorts to this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Those About To Chuck (We Forgive You)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by tumblr ramblings about why Newt was so quick to produce a handkerchief for sickly Hermann following their drift with the baby kaiju. More parts to follow!
> 
> This was originally uploaded from a smart phone. I may end up regularly changing/editing stuff.

"Operation Penultimate AC-DC Album" was an official name. It appeared on confidential military documents, its abbreviation PADA had been uttered aloud by chiefs of staff, and it had come about exclusively due to a stipulation set out by one Newton Geiszler, for his participation in this exercise. PADA was set in a classified location somewhere in northern Alaska, in order to stress-test an experimental Jaeger fusion reactor in sub-zero temperatures. PADA derived its name from the legendary Australian band's 2008 release Black Ice; no-one involved with the project had sufficient clearance and arcane knowledge of pub rock to correct Newt's error: Black Ice had in fact been the band's final album, owing to band member illness and the onset of kaiju attacks in their twilight years.  
This was a matter of fleeting significance; Newt was content to make a mess of the project and drag along his increasingly-frequent collaborative patsy Hermann Gottlieb.

"This is preposterous, Geiszler," Hermann said when briefed of the project, some two months prior, "we study the kaiju-" he gestured incredulously at the mountain of classified documents Newt toted around like some bin of vacuum-packaged comic books, "these projects don't have... rock concert admittance lists, they have to be extremely selective of the consultants they bring on!"

Newt shrugged as Hermann continued to rant, "this akin to, to wildlife experts, helping design an automobile engine, s-so that it can better survive a collision with a deer!!" Hermann fell short of breath; shouting at Newt was the most strenuous activity in his daily routine. Throughout years of excited written correspondence, he had never fathomed that this brilliant person could be so woefully out of touch with reality.

"It's not like that hasn't dawned on me dude." Newt spoke as he flipped the pages of an irreplaceable turbine schematic: he was watching a highly inappropriate animated comic he had doodled in its margins. "an' it's not like I've abandoned my goals to coexist with the kaiju." Hermann shuffled uncomfortably; as frustrated as he was with Newt's kaiju obsession, it was entirely outweighed by his fear of persecution. The concern was great enough to keep him by his colleague's side, traveling great distances with him, butting into conversations and finishing sentences, changing the subject, or interjecting during their frequent encounters with military brass. Newt continued, "I figured we could sit in on this and it... might ah... give uh, gi-give me ideas on... how... kaiju... umm... circulatory systems work," Newt hunched over his desk and began bubbling in the O's on the cover page of a logistics/budgetary forecast. Hermann snatched the documents out of his hand.

"This isn't your personal coloring book!" he snapped, driving the other scientist to pout like a teenager. Newt looked for a place to sit down (Hermann had taken the guest's seat while Geiszler's own chair buckled under a mountain of recommendation letter rough drafts)- he settled for leaning not-so-casually against the veneered driftwood which made up the top of his filing-cabinet-turned-furniture-monstrosity desk. Hermann continued, "we have NO BUSINESS sitting in on this exercise! We can't POSSIBLY offer anything constructive to the design and implementation of this device!!"

Newt tilted his head sideways as he gave an exaggerated shrug. "They don't know that." His voice rose and fell squeakily like a child, "now come on, you're always complaining about how boring dry research and experimentation is!"

"That's YOU who thinks that! I just purse my lips and nod my head to get you to shut up!" Newt stopped, looking away from Gottlieb's glance with a wounded frown. It was enough to soften Hermann up: He shuddered when it finally dawned on him that his words had put his colleague in such a sour, dejected mood. Inside he began to panic, searching, scrambling to find something, anything he could say to smooth over the harshness of his words. "Look," Hermann said, sitting up, lowering his voice, "Do you... Do you really want... me to attend this? Do I need to accompany you?"

Newton shrugged, turning his eyes to Hermann but none of the rest of his body. He shuffled his feet like a child, "I mean you don't... have to..."

Fast-forward two months and the pair strapped side-by-side into passenger seatlets in the cargo hold of a well-loaded C-5M Super Galaxy (an antiquated strategic airlift craft, selected for reasons of innocuousness and bureaucratic disdain for the Jaeger program). "Hey, get this, they call these things B.U.F.F... You know what that stands for!?"

Hermann ignored him; maybe for the lack of sound-deadening (the aircraft was an almost century-old design which mandated weight savings from all corners), maybe for the abrupt shifts and jolts wrought by takeoff, maybe for the utter shame that yes, it was Newt's dejected frown that had guilt-tripped him into providing company on such an arbitrary and ludicrous excursion- Whatever the case, Hermann was on another planet as far as Newt was concerned; a planet filled with noxious gases, nonstop earthquakes, and not a single antacid available for 6 trillion miles.

"It stands for Big Ugly Fat Fu- Hey... You're not lookin' so hot Hermann..." the observation was astute; Gottlieb was doubled over, with his skin showing as a sickly off-color. Hesitantly, Newton reached a hand forward, to rub his friend's shoulder (and yes, he came on the trip with him, Newt could now consider him a... friend), rubbing tepidly at first, but eventually moving his hand slower and more firmly, "you got this dude, you got this!" He gazed around at the other passengers (they were mostly accompanied by soldiers staring ahead in space, stonefaced), he smiled and gestured in an awkward swagger, not nearly as reassuring as he might have hoped, "this guy, y-you see this guy? H-He's uh, he's got it!" Hermann croaked, sighing as he kept his stomach in check, leaning back up as Newt's hand remained, rubbing away. Hermann grimaced, reaching over his shoulder to grab the wrist, "Dr. Geiszler," he grunted, authoritatively, "you can stop that now." Newt beamed, assured that his shoulder rub had averted certain disaster, as Dr. Gottlieb indignantly closed his eyes and bowed his head. It was at this point that some of the soldiers had begun to stifle smiles, grins... maybe the occasional giggle.

The majority of the flight passed uneventfully, save the occasional inane question ("They will NOT be serving an in-flight meal, Newton!!"), the odd comment ("The President has MUCH more pressing matters than your ludicrous extra dimensional space slug theories!!"), or failed attempt at starting a game ("YOU CAN'T SCRAPE A HANGMAN GAME INTO THE FUSELAGE!!"). The flight seemed wholly unremarkable- that was, until they approached landing.

With ten minutes of scheduled flight remaining, the plane gave a sudden, violent downwards jolt, rousing the pair from a brief nap (during which they had slumbered quite peacefully, leaned against one another's shoulders). Newt opened his eyes with a complacent yawn as the plane began to buck and rock like an amusement park ride (he kicked his feet amusedly, an overgrown child awaiting the first drop of a rollercoaster).

Hermann was immediately thrown into a state of disarray, shooting panicked gazes in every possible direction. His mind flooded with questions as he noted the severity of the turbulence: Could they crash? Where were they? Was the reactor hazardous in the event of a crash? Would Newt make it out alri-no, that was a stupid question. Was the government aware of the poor weather? Was this plane fit for such bulky, heavy cargo? Should he reach out for Newt's hand-no, that was another stupid question! Hermann keeled over, resting his shoulders on his knees as Newt shouted out to the soldiers, now murmuring to one another, "Is this normal? What should we do?"

"Hold on!" shouted someone, a corporal seated at the end of the hold, "and keep your friend upright!" He pointed to Hermann, doubled over in a fetal position and covering his mouth grimly. Newt lurched his hand forward, once again grasping his colleague's shoulder and rubbing, gingerly at first.

"Gonna be ooooookaaaaaay..."

Hermann shuddered, trying to bat away Newt's hand, but only stumbled out bemused gibberish, "Nnn-! Do-! What ar-! D-! St-!"

Newt rubbed more vigorously as the plane's motions became especially violent, "you're gonna make it out alright!"

Hermann hiccuped; he clutched his stomach and shut his eyes, leaning toward the hand encircling his entire upper back now, as the plane began to level off some. Newt reached his near hand around Hermann's back to embrace him now, bringing the far hand over to rub the shoulder once more, as Hermann's body language softened more and more.

"GET HIM UPRIGHT!" shouted the corporal once more, "if something hits the back of his head he's done for!!!" Newt gradually brought Hermann to an upright, seated position, Dr. Gottlieb's head bowed backwards as the plane jolted to a landing. Geiszler kneaded his shoulders as the plane slowed to taxiing speeds. Hermann panted heavily, catching his breath as he once more clutched his mouth.

"We made it!" Newt exclaimed. He looked around excitedly as the swath of soldiers crossed hearts and kissed lockets- no doubt everyone was well aware of the cargo's volatility. Newt beamed at Hermann, radiant with pride that his friend had made it through the flight intact.

He slapped Hermann's back excitedly, "we did i-" Newt cut himself short. "Ohhhh man... I'm so... I'm... so sorry dude..." he feebly tried to resume rubbing Hermann's shoulder. "Well at least... At least we uh... we landed! landed... without... incident..." He fished through his own pockets hastily, then stuck his hands unceremoniously into Hermann's without asking, desperately searching for a handkerchief that was not there.


End file.
